xp_logs | Doug and Roxy (and the Washingtons, NPCs)

Doug has a meeting with Roy and Angel Washington about their daughter, Roxanne, moving to the mansion, testing their acceptance of mutants before deciding to return late at night to collect her.

Roxy was in her room in the New York townhouse. playing a Carole King song on her keyboard when she spotted the nondescript black sedan pulled up at the curb. The house was filled with music, so when the blonde man stepped out of the car and talked his way through the bodyguards keeping the plethora of anti-mutant protesters and paparazzi at a safe distance from the house, Roxy texted her parents instead of yelling for them. 'That guy we're meeting with is here,' she texted. 'I'll be right down.'

Angel looked up from the book she'd been reading as her phone buzzed on the table next to her. She checked the text message from her daughter, then marked her page and stood up. "Roy, he's here."

Roy paused before walking over to the sound system and turning it down to a low murmur for background noise. Ella Fitzgerald crooned about crying her a river as the housekeeper led their guest into the room. "Go on and head home, Maria," he said as Angel stood and offered her hand in introduction. They didn't need anybody, not even a trusted employee, hanging around for this conversation.

"It's nice to meet you, Mister Ramsey," Angel murmured. "Roxy will be down in just a moment. She saw you get here."

"Mr. Washington, Ms. Depres, it's a pleasure to meet you, even if it's under circumstances like these." Doug shook hands with both of Roxanne's parents and sat down when it was offered, clearly at ease. Years of being the White Knight meant that he wasn't dazzled (his train of thought skipped to first meeting Alison Blaire all those years - and a universe - ago at the choice of words) by fame. But he was impressed by talent, which the "Royalty of Hip Hop" had quite a bit of. "I actually performed your last single at karaoke last week." He shrugged and chuckled. "But then, I imagine you get that more than a bit."

"Not as often as you might think," Roy answered, settling in the chair adjacent to the other man's. "Thanks for coming. The press was bad before New Year's, but after it... people are getting more and more violent."

"We just want to protect our daughter, Mister Ramsey," Angel said, standing beside her husband's chair.

"That I absolutely can understand." Doug remembered being outed himself all too well. "And I have some experience with..." His expression hardened slightly. "...discouraging paparazzi."

Roxy slid backwards down the banister in the townhouse and stuck the landing, bouncing into the room as if this was just another day before her manifestation had turned her family's world upside down. "How do you discourage paparazzi, Mister Ramsey?" she asked curiously, squeezing comfortably between her parents on the couch.

"Roxy, baby," her mother said, a gentle admonishment.

"Mister Ramsey," Roy said. "This is Roxanne. Roxy, Mister Ramsey's gonna help us get you somewhere safe."

"Tell us about the school," Angel said.

Despite the admonishment, Doug answered Roxy first. "Paparazzi make their living by harassing people, making their lives miserable. I just return the favor." He didn't go into specifics, mostly because those specifics tended toward the not-quite-legal.

Turning back to the parents, he nodded. "Professor Charles Xavier has...I suppose you could call it a haven for mutants. A place where people can learn and be safe."

Roxy pouted a little at the gentle admonishment from her mom and Mister Ramsey's lack-of-answer. She wanted to know how he harassed the paparazzi! It seemed like a useful skill to be in possession of. They just made her so angry she couldn't think straight around them.

But the thoughts of the paparazzi went out of her head momentarily when Mister Ramsey mentioned a haven. "Professor Charles Xavier? Isn't that the genetics guy?" Her parents had been doing a lot of research on mutation since her manifestation, and she sort of remembered them giving her an article or two of his to read? "You mean like a place where they do research on mu... us?" Although she wouldn't really equate 'haven' with a place where research was done. But professors did research, and she didn't want to be someone's lab rat.

"Professor Xavier is a psychologist," Angel said. "We researched him - he helps... gifted students. If I remember correctly, there's a research facility on his property, but he doesn't actually do genetic research. Is that right, Mister Ramsey?"

"Gifted. A much more palatable word than 'mutie', don't you think?" That was a bit of a curveball to pitch at them, but Doug wanted to see how they'd react to the quasi-slur. "But yes, you're correct. The professor has a doctorate, but he's not really the type to sit in a lab all day. He prefers to fund and encourage research, and counsel and help young people who are struggling with having their lives turned upside down."

The silence hung for a moment before Roy sat back in his chair, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Unless you wanna come outta the closet and reclaim that word, Mister Ramsey, how about you don't drop it in our house?"

Doug nodded, the corners of his eyes relaxing fractionally. Roxy's parents seemed like good people, but people tended to get unpredictable around an active X-gene. He got the feeling Roy knew he was being tested, and to say so outright would be poor form. "Pretty sure I've got too big a backpack of privilege to try and reclaim a word like that," he observed wryly.

Her parents had always been big supporters of mutants, long before she'd actually manifested as one, so while Mister Ramsey's test surprised her, her dad's answer wasn't surprising in the least. "So, if my dad didn't show that he didn't like the word 'mutie', would you not let me come to your haven, Mister Ramsey?" she asked curiously. If this place only picked mutant kids from families that were sympathetic to mutants, she wasn't sure she really wanted to go there. It seemed kind of elitist to her. Shouldn't all kids be able to go to this haven school even if their parents used the word 'mutie'?

"That's not it at all. Sorry, I like to kind of take the measure of people, and that was a bit of dirty pool." Explaining it to the adults would have been poor form, but explaining it to Roxy was something else. "People sometimes think they're okay with things until they're faced with the reality of it."

"That's not something you need to worry about where we're concerned, Mister Ramsey," Angel said. "We've been dealing with the reality of other people's bigotry for a long time now." Reaching out, she smoothed her hand over Roxy's hair, her expression more worried than troubled, and repeated, "The school, Mister Ramsey. Can you tell us about its facilities? It's security? From what I understand, Professor Xavier doesn't provide the education so much as a room and board. The school its students attend is actually off-site?"

"That's correct. The number of students in residence at any particular time generally isn't enough to operate as a full-time school." Doug spread his hands and gestured a bit as he spoke. "So while there are generally...I suppose you could call them seminars that are taught by staff, students still have to attend classes at a 'regular' school."

He leaned forward. "As for security, it is absolutely top-notch." It had better be, now that the remaining members of X-Force were once more living in the mansion and not a brownstone in New York City. "In terms of facilities, there's quite a lot to do there, including a...well, not exactly a holodeck, but a large interactive modular space for familiarization and training with mutant powers." Words didn't really do the Danger Room justice.

"I guess there'd have to be a lot to do," Roxy piped up wryly, "since people like me- people who would be recognized and harassed wherever they went- wouldn't ever be allowed to leave." She looked at the pictures in the brochures on the school Mister Ramsey had brought, but she didn't want to look too closely. It's not like she could go there, anyway. "I couldn't go to classes at a 'regular' school," she told Mister Ramsey glumly. "The media would heckle the kids there like crazy. It would suck for them, and then they'd hate me. Besides, if the school's supposed to be a haven, you don't want me there. I'd ruin it for everyone cuz photographers follow me everywhere now."

"There're ways around that, though, right?" Roy asked, reaching over to give his daughter's hand a squeeze before he focused his attention back on their guest. He didn't like that their fame was having such a negative effect on Roxy but there wasn't much they could do about it now.

"There are." Doug nodded. "First of all, we can put down a lot of false electronic trails for the paparazzi. And trust me, I'm good at it. As for students at the high school...well, we have a few tricks not available to the average person." He pursed his lips, trying to figure out how to explain image inducers. "There are...well, small holographic emitters, is the best way to put it. They can disguise your appearance, so nobody outside of Xavier's has to know who you are unless you decide yourself to tell them."

"How many students are housed with Professor Xavier?" Angel asked. "Do you have enough of these holographic emitters for all of them?"

"If needed." Doug nodded to Roxy's mother. "Professor Xavier's family obviously was very well off, but he's not the only one who helps fund the expenses of the institute. Emma Frost is one of the Professor's close associates, for example."

"Emma Frost? From Frost Enterprises?" Roxy asked, eyes wide. "She helps mutants? Cool." Or maybe she was a mutant. That would be even cooler. "How do you put down false electronic trails? What does that mean? Making them think I'm somewhere else? Could I still talk to my family if that happens, or do I have to stay out of contact with them?"

"Basically having them think you're somewhere else, yes." And any paparazzi who got too close could be more...actively discouraged. But Doug didn't say that. Image inducers and the like were plenty without bringing up the concept of a shady extralegal team of mutants like X-Force. "You'd still be able to contact your folks, maybe even have them visit as long as we can keep the cover up."

Roxy found the pamphlet on the Bayville Charter School in the brochures and passed it to her father, knowing he'd be concerned about the curriculum. She didn't much care about school, herself. "It'd be cool if my parents could visit, yeah," she commented, feeling no embarrassment over the fact that, though her friends thought it was insane, she got along well with her parents and actually wanted them in her life and knowing what she was up to at a fancy mutant school.

Taking the pamphlet, Roy read over the charter school's basic information - he and Angel had researched the area extensively, even going so far as to check with their private security firm to find out as much information as they possibly could. It wasn't an easy thing, making the decision to send Roxy somewhere else, somewhere away from them where they couldn't watch over her themselves. Still, this wasn't the safest environment and the media was only getting more toxic thanks to M-Day.

"I'm sure we can work out something," Angel said, picking up a brochure for a dance studio that the school with which the school apparently had an agreement. "Look, baby, there seems to be a lot of extracurricular things you might enjoy." She looked directly at their guest, then, and said, "It seems like this is the best option we have available, Mister Ramsey. And it seems like Professor Xavier has resources beyond those of most private boarding schools. That said, since we'll be sending our daughter to stay there, we'd like to make a donation to ensure the school has whatever it might be needed in the wake of the New Years' Eve tragedy."

"If the Professor were here, he'd say that supportive parents are always appreciated, whether it's monetary generosity, or just visiting your child." Doug spared a moment to think of his own family and how he'd distanced himself from them. Or had he in this world? Better not to think on it. "Both are too rare lately."

He looked at his watch. "I think the best course is for me to come back later this evening to pick Roxy up?" He'd been able to get in without attracting much notice, but getting Roxy out would be trickier. Better to wait for cover of nightfall.

Roxy dropped the document she'd been skimming, surprised. "Uh... tonight?" She started to glance at her parents, a worried look on her face, but stopped herself and continued to look down at the coffee table. It was all so sudden. But it made sense to leave as soon as possible. Mister Ramsey had seen what was going on outside their door. Her family wasn't safe around the crowd outside. And her father had already had to cancel a month's worth of tour dates for her. He was supposed to be in Europe right now. Delaying her departure would only mean more missed concerts, which would mean more pissed fans. The family certainly didn't need that right now.

"Okay, cool," she said with a nod, raising her head to look Mister Ramsey in the eye. "Thanks, Mister Ramsey. I'll be ready." Then she went back to staring at the coffee table while her parents thanked and said goodbye to Mister Ramsey. One of the family's cats, reemerging when the visitor had departed, jumped into her lap and Roxy petted her absentmindedly. Before her parents returned to the room, she rose from the couch and went to pack a bag.

***
"Do you think they'll let me pick the name for my super secret identity?" she asked her parents as they sat in the darkness of the front foyer, waiting for Mister Ramsey's imminent return. She'd packed her things quietly, laughing weakly at the jokes her parents tried to make, attempting to lighten the mood as they helped pack the things she was taking and making a list of the things she would buy new and have delivered directly to the mansion.

Dinner had been eaten in the same tone of forced cheerfulness. It wasn't that the Washingtons weren't used to farewells- either Roy or Angel were always away from the rest of the family, barring summer or special occasions. But this seemed to be an entirely different situation, most likely because of the uncertainty Roxy's mutation seemed to have brought with it in regards to her own future and how it would affect the rest of the family. Would they really be safe if she left? Was Mister Ramsey really able to create a trail to make the paparazzi think she was somewhere else? Would this holographic emitter actually protect her, and protect the rest of the people living at the school from what she might bring with her? Would leaving really fix anything?

"I don't see why not," Angel murmured, reaching over to brush a nonexistent piece of lint from Roxy's shoulder.

"Sure," Roy said, leaning one shoulder against the wall near Angel's seat. The paparazzi outside were quiet for the moment. It was difficult to get a good shot of anything at night in a darkened house, particularly when its inhabitants were aware of every potential angle from which an invasion of privacy might come. "You have something in mind, baby girl?"

"Not really," Roxy admitted, casually resting her head on her mother's shoulder. It was hard to focus on the particulars of her life after leaving her parents. "Maybe something that's an homage to a musician?"

"I like that," Angel said, resting her temple against Roxy's hair for a moment. "We used a lot of good ones on the cat, though."

"Take it modern, there's plenty of female musicians kickin' it out there today," Roy suggested. "Lana. Celine. Adele."

"Melissa or Ellie," Angel offered, smiling a little sadly. "What about surnames?"

"Webber," Roy said, leaning down to press a kiss to Roxy's forehead. "Adele Webber. What d'you think, baby girl?"

Roxy bit her lip, overwhelmed with her parents' gestures and suggestions, the enormity of everything that was happening to her finally sinking in. But she forced the tears back and gave her parents a forced chuckle. "As in Andrew Lloyd? I like it. I really like it. Thanks, daddy." And then the tears won the battle and she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "This whole thing really sucks," she muttered wryly, though there was no anger in her voice. Just sadness.

Angel wiped away a few tears of her own before taking a fortifying breath and saying, "It could be worse - we just need to... to look on the bright side, right baby?"